Tag Archives: Isaac Watts

Sweet is the Work, My God, My King~ Hymn

Sweet is the Work, My God, My King

Sweet is the work, my God, my king,
To praise Thy name, give thanks and sing,
To show Thy love by morn­ing light,
And talk of all Thy truth at night.

Sweet is the day of sac­red rest,
No mor­tal cares shall seize my breast;
O may my heart in tune be found
Like Da­vid’s harp of so­lemn sound!

My heart shall tri­umph in my Lord
And bless His works, and bless His Word.
Thy works of grace, how bright they shine!
How deep Thy coun­sels, how di­vine!

Fools nev­er raise their thoughts so high;
Like brutes they live, like brutes they die;
Like grass they flour­ish, till Thy breath
Blast them in ev­er­last­ing death.

But I shall share a glo­ri­ous part,
When grace has well re­fined my heart;
And fresh sup­plies of joy are shed,
Like ho­ly oil, to cheer my head.

Sin (my worst ene­my be­fore)
Shall vex my eyes and ears no more;
My in­ward foes shall all be slain,
Nor Sa­tan break my peace again.

Then shall I see, and hear, and know
All I de­sired and wished be­low;
And ev­ery pow­er find sweet em­ploy
In that eter­nal world of joy.

And then what tri­umphs shall I raise
To Thy dear name through end­less days,
For in the realms of joy I’ll see
Thy face in full fe­li­ci­ty.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1719.

Sing to the Lord With Joyful Voice ~ Hymn

Sing to the Lord With Joyful Voice

Sing to the Lord with joy­ful voice,
Let ev­ery land His name ad­ore;
Let ev­ery isle send forth the noise
Across the ocean to the shore.
Let na­tions stand be­fore His throne
With so­lemn fear, with sacr­ed joy;
Know that the Lord is God alone;
He can cre­ate and He de­stroy.

His sov­er­eign pow­er, with­out our aid,
Made us of clay and formed us men;
And when, like wan­der­ing sheep, we strayed,
He brought us to His fold again.
We are His peo­ple, we His care,
Our souls and all our mor­tal frame:
What last­ing hon­ors shall we rear,
Almighty Mak­er, to Thy name?

We’ll crowd Thy gates with thank­ful songs,
High as the heav’ns our voic­es raise;
And earth with her ten thou­sand tongues
Shall fill Thy courts with sound­ing praise.
Wide as the world is Thy com­mand,
Vast as eter­ni­ty Thy love!
Firm as a rock Thy truth must stand,
When roll­ing years shall cease to move.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1719.

To God the Only Wise ~ Hymn

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To God the Only Wise

To God the on­ly wise,
Our Sav­ior and our king,
Let all the saints be­low the skies
Their hum­ble prais­es bring.

’Tis His al­migh­ty love,
His coun­sel, and His care,
Preserves us safe from sin and death,
And ev­ery hurt­ful snare.

He will pre­sent our souls,
Unblemished and com­plete,
Before the glo­ry of His face,
With joys di­vin­ely great.

Then all the chos­en seed
Shall meet around the throne,
Shall bless the con­duct of His grace,
And make His won­ders known.

To our Re­deem­er, God,
Wisdom and pow­er be­longs,
Immortal crowns of ma­jes­ty,
And ev­er­last­ing songs.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1707.

My God, My Life, My Love ~ Hymn

My God, My Life, My Love

My God, my life, my love;
To Thee, to Thee I call;
I can­not live if Thou re­move,
For Thou art all in all.

Thy shin­ing grace can cheer
This dun­geon where I dwell;
’Tis pa­ra­dise when Thou art here;
If Thou de­part, ’tis hell.

The smil­ings of Thy face,
How ami­able they are!
’Tis heav’n to rest in Thine em­brace,
And no where else but there.

To Thee, and Thee alone,
The an­gels owe their bliss;
They sit around Thy gra­cious throne,
And dwell where Je­sus is.

Not all the harps ab­ove
Could make a heav’n­ly place,
If God His re­si­dence re­move,
Or but con­ceal His face.

Nor earth, nor all the sky,
Can one de­light af­ford,
No, not a drop of real joy,
Without Thy pre­sence, Lord.

Thou art the sea of love,
Where all my plea­sures roll:
The cir­cle where my pass­ions move,
And cen­ter of my soul.

To Thee my spir­its fly
With in­fi­nite de­sire;
And yet how far from Thee I lie!
Dear Je­sus, raise me high­er.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1707-09.

Jesus Shall Reign ~ Hymn

Jesus Shall Reign

Jesus shall reign wher­e’er the sun
Does his suc­cess­ive jou­rneys run;
His king­dom stretch from shore to shore,
Till moons shall wax and wane no more.

Behold the is­lands with their kings,
And Eur­ope her best trib­ute brings;
From north to south the princ­es meet,
To pay their hom­age at His feet.

There Per­sia, glo­ri­ous to be­hold,
There In­dia shines in east­ern gold;
And bar­bar­ous na­tions at His word
Submit, and bow, and own their Lord.

To Him shall end­less pray­er be made,
And prais­es throng to crown His head;
His name like sweet per­fume shall rise
With ev­ery morn­ing sac­ri­fice.

People and realms of ev­ery tongue
Dwell on His love with sweet­est song;
And in­fant voic­es shall pro­claim
Their ear­ly bless­ings on His name.

Blessings abound where’er He reigns;
The pri­son­er leaps to lose his chains;
The wea­ry find eter­nal rest,
And all the sons of want are blest.

Where He dis­plays His heal­ing pow­er,
Death and the curse are known no more:
In Him the tribes of Ad­am boast
More bless­ings than their fa­ther lost.

Let ev­ery crea­ture rise and bring
Peculiar hon­ors to our king;
Angels des­cend with songs again,
And earth re­peat the loud amen.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1719.

Let Everlasting Glories Crown ~ Hymn

Let Everlasting Glories Crown

Let ev­er­last­ing glo­ries crown
Thy head, my Sav­ior and my Lord;
Thy hands have brought sal­va­tion down,
And writ the bless­ings in Thy Word.

What if we trace the globe around,
And search from Bri­tain to Ja­pan,
There shall be no re­li­gion found
So just to God, so safe for man.

In vain the tremb­ling con­sci­ence seeks
Some so­lid ground to rest up­on;
With long des­pair the spir­it breaks,
Till we ap­ply to Christ alone.

How well Thy bless­èd truths agree!
How wise and ho­ly Thy com­mands!
Thy pro­mis­es, how firm they be!
How firm our hope and com­fort stands!

Not the feigned fields of heathen­ish bliss
Could raise such plea­sures in the mind;
Nor does the Turk­ish pa­ra­dise
Pretend to joys so well re­fined.

Should all the forms that men de­vise
Assault my faith with trea­cher­ous art,
I’d call them van­ity and lies,
And bind the Gos­pel to my heart.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1707.

Before Jehovah’s Awful Throne ~ Hymn

Before Jehovah’s Awful Throne

Before Je­ho­vah’s aw­ful throne,
Ye na­tions, bow with sac­red joy;
Know that the Lord is God alone;
He can cre­ate, and He de­stroy,
He can cre­ate, and He de­stroy.

His so­ver­eign pow­er, with­out our aid,
Made us of clay, and formed us men;
And when like wan­der­ing sheep we strayed,
He brought us to His fold again,
He brought us to His fold again.

We are His peo­ple, we His care,
Our souls, and all our mor­tal frame;
What last­ing hon­ors shall we rear,
Almighty Mak­er, to Thy name,
Almighty Mak­er, to Thy name?

We’ll crowd Thy gates with thank­ful songs,
High as the heav­ens our voic­es raise;
And earth, with her ten thou­sand tongues,
Shall fill Thy courts with sound­ing praise,
Shall fill Thy courts with sound­ing praise.

Wide as the world is Thy com­mand,
Vast as eter­ni­ty Thy love;
Firm as a rock Thy truth must stand,
When roll­ing years shall cease to move,
When roll­ing years shall cease to move.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1719

 

The Law Commands and Makes Us Know ~ Hymn

The Law Commands and Makes Us Know

The Law com­mands and makes us know
What du­ties to our God we owe;
But ’tis the Gos­pel must re­veal
Where lies our strength to do His will.

The Law dis­co­vers guilt and sin
And shows how vile our hearts have been;
The Gos­pel on­ly can ex­press
Forgiving love and cleans­ing grace.

What curs­es doth the Law de­nounce
Against the man that fails but once!
But in the Gos­pel Christ ap­pears,
Pardoning the guilt of nu­mer­ous years.

My soul, no more at­tempt to draw
Thy life and com­fort from the Law.
Fly to the hope the Gos­pel gives;
The man that trusts the pro­mise lives.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1709.

Blest is the Man, Forever Blest ~ Hymn

Blest is the Man, Forever Blest

Blest is the man, for­ev­er blest,
Whose guilt is par­doned by his God;
Whose sins with sor­row are con­fessed,
And co­vered with his Sav­ior’s blood.

Blest is the man to whom the Lord
Imputes not his ini­qui­ties;
He pleads no mer­it of re­ward,
And not on works, but grace re­lies.

From guile his heart and lips are free;
His hum­ble joy, his ho­ly fear,
With deep re­pent­ance well agree,
And join to prove his faith sin­cere.

How glo­ri­ous is that right­eous­ness
That hides and can­cels all his sins!
While a bright evi­dence of grace
Through his whole life ap­pears and shines.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1719.

The Deity and Humanity of Christ ~ Hymn

 

The Deity and Humanity of Christ

Ere the blue heav’ns were stretched abroad,
From ev­er­last­ing was the Word:
With God He was; the Word was God,
And must di­vine­ly be ad­ored.

By His own pow­er were all things made;
By Him sup­port­ed all things stand;
He is the whole cre­ation’s head,
And an­gels fly at His com­mand.

Ere sin was born, or Sa­tan fell,
He led the host of morn­ing stars:
Thy ge­ne­ra­tion who can tell,
Or count the num­bers of Thy years?

But lo, He leaves those heav’n­ly forms,
The Word des­cends and dwells in clay,
That He may hold con­verse with worms,
Dressed in such fee­ble flesh as they.

Mortals with joy be­held His face,
Th’eter­nal Fa­ther’s on­ly Son;
How full of truth! how full of grace!
When thro’ His eyes the God­head shone.

Archangels leave their high abode
To learn new mys­te­ries here, and tell
The loves of our des­cend­ing God,
The glories of Im­ma­nu­el.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1707.